The curse of Cassandra
by backtoavalon
Summary: "It does not matter what we do, we can never fool our fate. And mine was to carry this guilty."


Author's note: Harry Potter and its settings belong to JK Rowling. Hope you enjoy the story and stay for the next chapters!

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**Prologue - Brandon**

The room was dark, except for the pale blue light that poured out from the stone basin which was carefully put on the top of the small study desk under the window. Outside the full moon was shinning, whole and inviting, however its shine did not reach the room, instead it lost itself over the lawn e among the trees of the Forbidden Forest. Standing inside, with both hands resting on the table, was a girl, her face was lit by the basin light and it was possible to see pain in every and each of her features. Although she did not cry, though she smiled day after day, during classes, every time someone spoke to her in the corridors, in spite of all this, he knew it was there, he knew the pain was a constant in the girl's life.

"Why do you do this every night? What is in this pensieve?"

"Nothing. And everything." She answered without taking her eyes of the blue light. I t was always like that, she never talked straight about what afflicted her, she would just throw puzzles here and there and only the very observant could catch all its pieces and understand what was really happening.

"You didn't show up for dinner today. This is not going to easy your pain, you know?"

"I know, but I wasn't hungry" it was a lie, " do you know something curious? You can take all your memories and put them in a pensieve, but you cannot get yourself free from the feelings they wake inside you, why do you think that happens?"

He did not know where she was going with that, neither why this happened, but he decided maybe it was worth to try and follow the girl's reasoning. He got near the table and looked to the inside of the pensieve, it was not possible to identify a single image, but he knew they were there, constantly changing. The surface stirred as if there were sea waves in the recipient, but without the same rhythm, the same constancy, it was despairing to look at it for more than a few seconds. He diverted his gaze from the pensieve and to the girl, who kept staring fixedly at her memories.

"I don't know, maybe sentiments are deeper than the memory they are linked to." It was just a shot in the dark.

"Or maybe they're what make us who we are." The girl looked up for the first time in that evening, turning to the window and the moon beyond.

"Maybe. But our feelings do change and we cannot change all the time with them. What happens is that the things we feel interfere on how we deal with things, but we don't change our personalities along each feeling we experience, that would be insane."

"But what if we consider that we pile up sentiments? Then that makes sense. Have you ever thought we are just the sum of what we live and feel? Our attitudes, the way we react to situations are simply the union of all this. I don't think we have a fixed personality then."

What she was saying was logical, but went against many people's beliefs. They liked to think everybody had one and only personality and that was it. Maximum, a mask would be used for the ones who wanted to hide who they truly were. And more, some conservative wizards, ever after the end of the War, still believed the family and the blood was determinant to one's personality. He did not believe in that, more than that, he did not know in what to believe, he would just generally deny everything. All those ideas about the self and the world seemed to him a bunch of imposed bullshit, made up by a closed ill wizard community, also muggle philosophy did not appealed to him, it did not solved his problems. But now, in that room, in a full moon night, he wanted to believe in something.

"Yes, that sounds good to me and it looks easier to believe in it than it is to carry the burden of being unchangeable through our whole lives. But you did want to get rid of the sentiments with your memories, didn't you? That's why you stare so much at this pensieve."

alguém nos olhos como fazia agora e então soube que ela nunca havia sido tão sincera.

"I wish I could erase everything." For the first time in very long, she looked at his face, actually, he thought it was the first time she ever looked someone in the eyes as she did now and at that moment he knew she had never been so sincere.

"You wouldn't want to erase who you are" He said half laughing, trying not to think about how much the girl had scared him.

"If we really are what we feel then, yes, I would" Her tone was certain, decided. "I would rather don't exist than to remember the fear, horror and despair, I can't live with this. Not the way they are. Not the way I am.

"But if we are the results of our experiences like you said, then you are more than that, you surely have experienced more than that."

The girl lowered her eyes, quiet. He saw the tear she was trying to hold back and hide, and knew she would not say anymore, not that night. There was still something he could not understand about her, why could not she get ride of that pain? Maybe he would never know the answer to that question. So, for now, he simply went to where the she was standing and hugged her. Hugged her as someone who holds a rope for dear life, without at least knowing why.

"Don't do that, not tonight… And someday you will tell me what happened and let me help you."


End file.
